


It Doesn't Happen Like This In The Movies

by Philosoferre



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Arguing, Bad Weather, Boys In Love, Cliche, Dorks in Love, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, M/M, Metaphors, Plot Twists, Rain, Some Plot, enjolras is mean, hail, it was hailing yesterday and this happened, lines get crossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:11:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7364584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosoferre/pseuds/Philosoferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras laughed, "“You locked us outside, I thought it would only be fair to let you have a taste of the conditions we were in.”</p>
<p>Grantaire fondly rolled his eyes, “You are an absolute dork, you know that?”</p>
<p>Combeferre cleared his throat, reminding the pair that, oh yeah, there were other people here, too.</p>
<p>“Courfeyrac just thought it would be funny to lock you guys outside. ‘Change up the stereotypic kissing in the rain scene’, as he put it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Happen Like This In The Movies

**Author's Note:**

> It was hailing yesterday, and me, the idiot, was just standing there, watching chunks of hail fall down from the sky and hit me. It took me a remarkably long time to realize that, oh yeah, I could go inside and watch the hail without getting hit in the process.   
> So, anyways, this happened because, apparently, nothing can happen in my life anymore without sparking up an Enjoltaire-related thought.   
> So here you go. Have 900-something words of fluff and cliche scenes.   
> To my dearest Mirela, the E to my R, and my wonderful sister, who was also watching the hail with me.  
> P.S. Even my cat was smarter than me, she came inside before it even started raining.

Enjolras slammed his fist down on the table. Grantaire didn’t even fling at the sudden, loud noise, but instead kept his gaze level. 

“You know what, Enjolras? Everything you’re doing, everything you’re saying, is total and complete crap.”

Enjolras glared at him, frowning. 

“It’s not crap. You just have no sense of the future, no ideal, no goal. You’re worthless, while we strive for-“

“Enjolras, that’s enough,” Combeferre warned.

Grantaire’s gaze was unwavering. Eponine looked worried- she clearly saw something the rest didn’t. 

“No, I’m not done yet,’ Enjolras hissed, eyes glowing with a bright blue fire. ‘Grantaire, you are incapable of believing, of willing, of thinking, of living, of doing, of dying and of loving.”

And suddenly, Grantaire’s gorgeous blue eyes clouded over, like foggy skies. A wave of emotion passed over his face, but then he put the mask on again and slowly backed away from the table. 

“You’ll see,’ He muttered, voice soft and broken. ‘You’ll see.”

And then he walked out of the backroom and out of the Musain. Enjolras suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He turned to his friends with foggy eyes.

“I think you crossed a line,” Courfeyrac said quietly.

Enjolras nodded silently.

He stood there for a while, and then he suddenly realized why he felt so guilty. He loved Grantaire. He loved the man, with all his flaws and talents and those beautiful blue eyes. It was as if the realization had literally struck him, because the minute he came to a conclusion he lost his balance and ran into the table. 

“I – I gotta go,” He said distantly.

Enjolras regained his balance and ran out of the backroom. He paused to let a waitress pass, listening to the rain pattering against the windows. As soon as the waitress passed, he made a dash for the door. 

It was practically flooding outside, but Enjolras didn’t care. He could spot Grantaire not far from the cafe.

“Wait, R, I didn’t mean it!”

Grantaire turned around to face him, his shirt completely soaked through.

“Spare me the apology, Apollo, it won’t-“

He was suddenly cut off by Enjolras’ lips on his. Enjolras pulled him close, one arm around his waist and the other carding through his soft curls. Rain was pouring down, it was cold, they were both soaked to the bone, and they were probably on the verge of public indecency, but Enjolras couldn’t find it in himself to care about anything. 

All that mattered was that he had kissed Grantaire, and Grantaire was kissing him back. 

The rain was gentle, almost soothing, until it suddenly got worse. 

A piece of hail hit Enjolras. 

“Ow,” He complained into Grantaire’s mouth.

Grantaire pulled back and laughed. Enjolras would be frowning if it wasn’t for how adorable he looked right now, smiling carelessly and drenched.

And then he got hit with hail.

“Ow.”

Enjolras laughed this time, but then they were both pelted by tiny chunks of hail.

“This doesn’t happen in the movies,” Grantaire yelled over the noise. 

“No,’ Enjolras agreed. ‘But since when have our lives been movies?”

“Good point. Let’s go back inside, I can get my keys from Eponine and then we can get out of these wet clothes.”

Enjolras blushed.

Grantaire’s eyes widened and he winced as he was hit with another piece of hail, “Ow- no, not like that. I mean...unless, you want it to be like that?”

Enjolras grinned, “Very much so.”

He leaned in to kiss him again, but was pelted by hail. They ran back to the Musain.

But the door was locked.

“Are you kidding me?” Enjolras cried, banging relentlessly on the door.

He was wet and cold and getting hailed on, and the door was fricking locked. 

“Here, let me try,” Grantaire offered.

He rattled the doorknob several times, and even attempted kicking the door open, before giving up and stepping back. The hail was getting worse and there was no one else outside by now.

Enjolras started hitting the door again, “Open the damn door, Courf! I know you did this, you son of a-“

Combeferre opened the door and gestured for them to come inside. As soon as they did, he closed it behind them and shook his head at Courfeyrac, who was barely suppressing laughter. Musichetta disappeared into the staff room for a moment, and returned with two towels.

“Thank you,” they both said, teeth chattering. 

Grantaire wrapped the towel around his shoulders and started throwing pieces of hail at Eponine. She easily deflected them, laughing not-so-quietly. 

Which gave Enjolras a positively wonderful idea.

He opened the door, collected some hail in his hand, and stalked across the cafe to shove it down Courfeyrac’s pants. He succeeded, and soon Courfeyrac was running around the cafe, yelping and shivering like a maniac. 

“Enj-ahhh, why did you – so...c-c-cold-“

Enjolras laughed, “You locked us outside, I thought it would only be fair to let you have a taste of the conditions we were in.”

Grantaire fondly rolled his eyes, “You are an absolute dork, you know that?”

Combeferre cleared his throat, reminding the pair that, oh yeah, there were other people here, too.

“Courfeyrac just thought it would be funny to lock you guys outside. ‘Change up the stereotypic kissing in the rain scene’, as he put it.”

Courfeyrac then proceeded to let out an undignified giggle, followed by an equally undignified squeal as more melted hail found its way into his socks.

Ignoring the fact that they were both wet, cold and surrounded by people, Grantaire pulled Enjolras in for another messy kiss.

“I say we get out of these wet clothes,” He said when they broke apart. 

Enjolras smirked, “I’m not opposed to that idea.”

“Get a room!” Eponine called out, nose scrunched up in mock disgust.

Grantaire winked, “Oh, we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> The minute I wrote this, I wondered 'why aren't I a screenwriter, I mean, look at this fabulously cliche scene', and then I was like 'oh, yeah, it's because I'd end up naming my two main characters Enjolras and Grantaire'. Therefore, I write fabulously cliche fanfiction for you to enjoy. 
> 
> Come say hi, mon amis!!


End file.
